A Man For All Seasons (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

13. Why the Caged Bird Sings

Julia

Before anybody asks, no, I didn't faint. But man, I certainly can't say that I did not come close. I had gone completely numb with ecstasy, all concerns, questions, and priorities shriveling up before the fact that Freddie was standing in front of me, with that quiet, gentle smirk upon his lips and his arm still clasped firmly around my waist.

At last I found my voice again- kind of. "G-good morning," I squeaked.

His free hand kept flexing where he had left it suspended near my cheek; I was unsure whether he intended to hit me or caress me. In the end, he did neither, opting instead to lay his fingertip against my chin.

"What's this look for?" he asked. "Something the matter?"

As outrageously inappropriate as I found that question, I was still stuck in robot-tier obedience mode; automatically I shook my head. "Not at all, no, everything's fine."

"Where's Danny?"

"He's all right, John just got back from taking him to Sunday School."

"You all came together?"

I nodded. "Well, almost. Stuart followed us here in his car- and he's been following me ever since."

"Mm." Freddie's body stiffened at the mention of Stuart's name- but not for long. "Well, I've got you now, so that problem's been solved well enough. So you can stop looking like that- unless there's something else that's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," I said, while inwardly I asked, A problem solved that easy? What planet are you living on, my prince?

"But there's got to be, I don't think I've ever seen you so pale." He pulled away, pretended to look himself over. "I know. It's this damned jacket, isn't it?"

I could feel the corners of my eyes twitch at that. "What does your jacket have to do with-"

"Oh, don't lie to me, I know you think it's ridiculous, but there really wasn't much else she had worth even looking at, let alone wearing, and there was no f---ing way I was showing up here in last night's clothes, so- I made do with what was available."

He took a step back, twirled around once to give me a better look at his velvet, plum-colored smoking jacket- which, for the record, I hadn't even noticed right off. It made no sense to me that he would assume I didn't like the look when I had certainly seen him in worse costumes, as well as why we were discussing his clothes in the first place when there were at least a thousand and one other things we could have been catching up on.

After a minute Freddie stopped short, the small crease between his brows deepening. "Are you all right, dear?"

"Yes, yes, of course. I'm great. Where have you been?"

He ignored the question. "Well- I mean, you look you're about to be sick-"

"No, I'm not, really, I'm just- a little overwhelmed, and trying really hard not to completely flip out, that's all."

"Why?"

"Let's just say, it wouldn't be pretty."

What's more, on the off chance that Stuart was telling me the truth, I'm not sure I should let my guard down just yet, I added silently. All those horrible things fired at me the night before were ringing happily against my eardrum once again, their tolls growing louder with every second I spent gazing upon his chiseled, stubbly face.

But then Freddie huffed. "Well, this is a complete disappointment, I tell you."

"What is?" I frowned.